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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29619621">A wet towel and chips</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/EWM/pseuds/EWM'>EWM</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Febuwhump (First one ever!!) [15]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>MacGyver (TV 2016)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016) Whump, Caring Jack Dalton (MacGyver TV 2016), FebuWhump2021, Field Surgery, Gen, Healing slowly but surely, Hurt Angus Macgyver (Macgyver 2016), Jack taking care Mac, Lots of Whump, Protective Jack Dalton (MacGyver 2016), Setting broken bones, Whump, Worried Jack Dalton (MacGyver TV 2016), whump and comfort</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 17:42:26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,062</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29619621</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/EWM/pseuds/EWM</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A new bit of my Obeying Commands fic </p><p>Dalton takes care of Mac and his many wounds. </p><p>This time the prompt was "Field Surgery"</p><p>The rest can be found in my Febuwhump collection (Obeying Commands/The faces comes to visit/I have to keep going/ A purple ankle and a floating brain)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jack Dalton &amp; Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Febuwhump (First one ever!!) [15]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2150052</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>25</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A wet towel and chips</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jack panicked when he saw MacGyver fading in and out of focus. Although Mac had sometimes lost interest in a conversation in the past, he was never so dazed looking. When he stopped listening to someone it tended to be simply because he had thought of something else (a new project or problem to solve) in his own head that commanded his attention. He never had a blank look on his face, it was disturbing to behold. Those blue eyes without anything behind them. In his worry Dalton had a brain wave of his own.</p><p>“Mac...Mac…look at me, I need your help”</p><p>Dalton’s voice brought Mac back to the present.  He shifted on the bed and groaned</p><p>“Yes… of course what should I do? I’ll do anything you ask.”</p><p>Dalton ignored the sick feeling at the pit of his stomach listening to Mac beg for instructions. It was so unlike, so…out of character.</p><p>“No…no, you don’t need to do anything. You’re going to help me. No, you’ll be fine. Okay, so I said, we’re going to fix your foot.”</p><p>“No really, it’s fine…”</p><p>“Listen Mac, I want you to help me. First, we’re going clean you up okay.”</p><p>Unsure of what he was supposed to do, Mac nodded.</p><p>“Okay, I gotta go back to the car first. I know…don’t worry. I’ll be right back I promise. I need you to sit tight. Keep that ice on your foot. Just wait..”</p><p>Mac gulped, but nodded again.  Dalton speedily departed, Mac started reciting pie, he got to 50 by the time Jack returned holding a paper bag. Jack dumped it’s contents out onto the opposite bed. Then he pulled two pillows from the bed and eased them under Mac’s foot as painlessly as he could. Part of him wanted to fix the foot first, but the state of Mac’s back and arms worried him too. One disaster at a time he reminded himself.  Then he moved towards the hob and fridge again, he found two a bowl inside the fridge that had some very dodgy looking potato chips in. He tossed them into the sink and washed them away, then he scrubbed the bowl as best he could and ran the tap, so it was full.  He put the bowl of water on the bed at Mac’s feet then he went back again and found a towel from the bathroom</p><p>“Okay Mac, loose the top, your back must be in agony. Let’s get you cleaned up.”</p><p>Mac shook his head</p><p>“Come on Mac. I want you to feel better, I’m not going to do anything other than clean it up and sew anything up that’s deep.”</p><p>Dalton waited, slowly Mac shuffled forwards and removed the blood stained top. Jack saw him grimace and the t-shirt came off. He moved the bowl closer to him</p><p>“Now lean forward. It’ll be fine, I promise”</p><p>Mac obeyed and shut his eyes. He didn’t want to watch Jack’s reaction to his back again, he was already ashamed of it and he didn’t need Dalton’s staring to remind him.  Jack took the towel and put in the water and slowly and carefully put it onto the kid’s shredded back and arms. There was dried blood everywhere and so many bruises that Jack lost count. They ran the full gamut of horrible colours from red and blue to a strange curdled yellow and green. What Mac must have endured to get all this made Jack want to weep and scream in equal measure. There were other marks too, parts of his skin had strange white bumps on them; Jack had seen enough of those to recognise a burn mark when he saw it. What was almost worse was many of the marks were old, like weeks old. It looked Lord has taken to burning Mac early, perhaps it had been his favourite way of tormenting him Jack thought darkly. He was of course filthy as well, so every cut, every nick, every burn scar old and new (there were a few brand-new ones too) was raw and some were infected. Jack went back to the other bed and found a half bottle of booze, not ideal to disinfect things, but he didn’t have any other options. He took one corner of the towel and put a tiny bit of alcohol on it</p><p>“This is going to sting kid.”</p><p>Jack registered Mac’s sharp intake of breath, but kept going. He washed the towel a couple of times to get rid of the alcohol and stuck with water for everything else. He kept movements as small as he could, he hoped it wasn’t too painful. But he knew he had to finish. Slowly the mess came away, the mud started to fall onto the bed and Mac kept very quiet, still desperate to please Jack even now. Every time the towel touched his skin, he wanted to cry out or scream. It took his mind back to Lord when he was at his worst, his most cruel. Mac ended up biting his tongue to keep himself silent, but when Jack found a deep still bleeding cut on his side, he couldn’t help it, he howled and then immediately looked back at Jack</p><p>“I’m sorry…I shouldn’t have cried out…I…I know it’s bad…I know I’m not allowed to cry out.”</p><p>Jack’s soft drawl silenced his semi-incoherent half sentences</p><p>“Kid, it’s okay…you’re fine. I got you in the side, it hurts. I understand.”</p><p>“But…”</p><p>“I understand.”</p><p>MacGyver swallowed.</p><p>“Look Mac, that cut is still bleeding. It’s deep, I think I might have to sew it up. “</p><p>“Fine! I’ll lay on my side or stay seated, whatever I’m supposed to do. Just tell me.  I’ll be quiet though. I promise”</p><p>Jack sighed which of obviously made Mac worry all the more so he started to babble again.</p><p>“It’s okay kid. You don’t need to worry. If you can lie on your side, that would be good and raise your arms...I’ll.”</p><p>He watched Mac obey immediately and that desire to scream in frustration came again. But he thought he should just try and get it over and done with. He turned his eyes back to the bed where he dropped the random items that he kept in his trunk. Bandages, a sewing kit (he never liked admitting that he was actually a very proficient sewer), some spare clothes, some random cans of pop and snacks and some spare clothes. He had also brought a spare gun and some ammunition, but he’d promptly put that under the pillow. Weapons was something Mac didn’t need to see. He grabbed the sewing kit and turned back to the now shaking boy.</p><p>“Hey…hey Mac. I know you’re scared. Just listen to my voice. Just focus on my voice, my Texas drawl as you always called it. There’s nothing else Mac. Only me, no one else in the world, just us. Me and my boy.”</p><p>Jack kept a steady stream of conversation; it wasn’t really about anything. He talked about chips initially, partly because he was horrified by what he’d found in the fridge, he talked about his favourite flavour, his mom trying to make them at home, spending his allowance on them he was a kid. He started to talking about his other favourite food; greasy pizza and cola and steak. It was all nonsensical, but Mac’s shaking slowed. Dalton got to work as fast he could with the needle and thread. It was not neat, but it got done. Mac tensed again, but there was nothing Jack could do about it. He cut the thread with his teeth.</p><p>“It’s okay Mac, you can get up. It’s done. You’re fine.”</p><p>The kid shuffled up once more. Jack made him moved forward again, so he could apply bandages to his back, still Mac stayed quiet. It unnerved Dalton.  Dalton put the needle and thread back on the bed and wiped his hands on the towel, the feeling of Mac’s blood running in between his fingers disturbed him too. He went a found t-shirt on the bed, it was old and far too big for Mac, but it gave him something. He pushed towards Mac, he speedily put it on. Jack wanted to cry, seeing Mac in a too big t-shirt with his messed up well everything staring at him. He looked like a frightened boy and Jack just wanted to hug him. However  the issue of his foot, or rather both his feet remained. He cleaned up the bowl of water, refilled it and found another towel and returned</p><p>“Okay Mac, you’ve done great so far. But those feet are still a problem. That ice pack is basically a a pool now and you’re right one is still a real weird colour I couldn’t even name.”</p><p>Mac smiled at the half attempt at a joke</p><p>“I think I’m going to have clean them up.”</p><p>Mac nodded again. He’d got through the first part and Jack hadn’t done anything to him, well nothing he didn’t deserve. He shouldn’t have cried out when Jack touched the cut on his side. Maybe he could get through this bit too. Jack took the towel and pressed softly into his feet, he was very careful. The pain shot up through him again so Mac stared at the ceiling to distract himself. He was fortunate in the sense that although his feet had bled profusely, none of the cuts were deep enough to need stitches.</p><p>“Alright kid, you with me?” Jack asked to get Mac’s attention once again</p><p>He was back and seemingly eager. Jack gently ran his fingers of Mac’s foot, his touch was so light he almost didn’t register it</p><p>“I want you to tell me what I need to make a splint?”</p><p>“What why?”</p><p>“Because your foot needs it.”</p><p>He hesitated before responding.</p><p>“Don’t you know how to?”</p><p>“Let’s say my old man memory is failing me. I want you to jog my memory. You can always make anything out of anything, look around the room. What do we need?”</p><p>There was a pause and then Mac’s brain kicked into gear. His eyes scanned the room and he was off</p><p>“Ideally we would need a long stick, some newspaper or a magazine would do, gauze or padding…do you want me to continue?”</p><p>He’d caught Jack’s expression and didn’t know what to make of it. Dalton’s face had lit up</p><p>“Yes hoss, go go, tell me.”</p><p>So he did and Jack went around grabbing everything they needed. Jack pushed further asking how to set it up, of course Dalton knew, but it was working. Mac’s old self, although clearly buried was there, his desire to know things, to understand, to explain…it was peaking through all the pain and the mess. As a consequence, what should have been an incredibly painful process was done relatively speedily, Mac almost didn’t register it when the splints went on. After a flurry of activity Jack gave him some soda and chips and told him to eat, he happily complied chomping away. It was the first food he’d really had in days and the sugar and salt going into his body felt amazing, when he caught Dalton’s amused expression he did panic.</p><p>“It’s fine..eat…eat, enjoy…trust me if there was a decent pizza place round here, I’d give you that. But that’s going to have to do for dinner for now.”</p><p>So he continued, burping periodically. At one-point Jack insisted he move a bit, so he could brush the mud and the blood away from the back of the bed. In an ideal world he would have preferred to move him, but he knew enough about broken bones to realise that wasn’t wise. The minutes passed and Mac began to crash again, his eyelids drooping. Dalton wiped the debris of junk food away from him and grabbed a blanket off the other bed, wrapping it around him. He left the foot bare, but told Mac to try and sleep.</p><p>“Where will you sleep?”</p><p>“I’ll be fine kid, I’m just going to perch here” Jack grabbed the one remaining chair and sat next to the bed</p><p>“Mac, I give you my word. Everything will be okay. Just shut your eyes. I’m here. I’m watching over you.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>On the whole  'field surgery'/ taking care of injuries point,  any mistakes I made/people I've annoyed or upset, apologies I made it all up</p></blockquote></div></div>
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